i confess

transition...

2009-02-05T20:29:00.002-06:00

hello friends. i am making the transition to wordpress. yes, it's official. so, i will, generally, no longer be writing here. please feel free to join me at http://theunhousewife.wordpress.com. it will be fun, i promise.

for those who care, i'm making the transition because i like the way wordpress allows me to compartmentalize my life. ha. not in a bad way... but really, i feel like i'm wanting to write about so many different things, and yet give you the option to only really read the stuff you're interested in. or at least to know what you're getting into before you're in too deep! aaah! also, i'm hoping to "plop" my posts from here over there for continuity. hence, we're in a transition. thanks for coming along for the ride.

Snack Mix

2009-01-28T11:39:00.002-06:00

Is there a hidden meaning behind how you eat your snack mix and what it says about you as a person?

To use myself as an example, I thoroughly enjoy the bagel chips. Especially the pumpernickle kind. (Nope, I didn't make up that word.) Beyond that, I eat everything equally, first. Then, I eat all the pumpernickle bagel chips. There is no discrimination between pretzel and sesame seed nugget. No distinction between twisted pretzel and pretzel stick. No difference between mini-breadstick, and chex. But oh, the bagel chips. Crunchy. Salty. Bite-size. Crunchy. Delicious. Crunchy.

What about you? Are you a chex lover? Do you salivate thinking about mini-breadsticks? Do you eat your mix in a particular order - first twisted pretzels, then sesame seed pretzels, then (God forbid you don't eat them last) bagel chips, chex, and pretzel sticks?

Also, any preference on the brand? I find particular delight in Gardetto's Original Recipe Snack Mix. The Gardetto's Italian Mix is pretty good too. This one time, at band camp. Scratch that. This one time, my sister-in-law Janessa found an entire container devoted to just the Gardetto's pumpernickle bagel chips. She was my hero that day.

It's not about you, stupid.

2009-01-21T12:59:00.003-06:00

I clearly remember one chapel during my college experience when one of the most well-known, well-respected, and well-liked Bible professors stood in front of the student body and humbly declared, "It's not about you, stupid." You would have to have known Dr. Schnittjer to believe me when I say this man is probably one of the only gentleman in the world who could say that to the student body and have everyone not only believe him, but not feel offended. I can confidently say that, most likely, no one thought twice about what he said. No one thought to themselves, "Wow, Doc. Who are you to say that?" Or "You don't know me." Or "I don't think that." We all knew that he was right. And we knew that he wasn't saying it because he thought he was better.

I've been thinking about this concept quite a bit. I've been trying to push through the pride of others while yanking the log out of my own eye, so to speak. Why is it that we so easily make blanket statements? Declare opinions as fact? Judge an opportunity as the only option? Treat others as a means to an end, instead of a peer in a shared experience?

Usually my next response is to say that we also need to somehow balance serving others with our personal health and well-being so that we don't become sucked-dry robots who live to please others. But I think I'm learning that not only is it not about me, but it's not really about you, either. Maybe if we all really lived in view of eternity, with God in mind, like Jesus lived... not only would we not be so selfish, but we wouldn't become sucked-dry robots either. We would be continually filled with God's love, and serving out the overflow of His heart in us. And I know that seems vague and void of practicals, for those of you who live in reality, but that's all I have for now.

Love wins.

she knows...

2009-01-16T10:27:00.003-06:00

the pant - shoe combination i'm wearing today doesn't work. i know it. my pants are too short for the shoe i'm wearing. my shoes don't look right with these pants. i know. and usually, i spend an unfortunate amount of time debating how much self confidence i actually have and how much i care or don't care on mornings like this one. but today i just know. and i probably care a little. and my self confidence is most likely at an all time "whatever."

so, i put on these pants because they were the only clean ones left that aren't memorable (a.k.a. i can wear them twice in one week without anyone noticing). and i put on these shoes because they are relatively warm and also comfortable. i think i'm just hoping that my good hair day will make up for any unfortunate glances downward.

this makes me think of relationships. really, (if you are single) you could be with anyone. you could have a significant relationship with any one person. that doesn't necessarily mean you should, however.

let's say, just for example, that you are a nice clean pair of pants. and he is, just for example, a comfortable and warm pair of shoes. apart, you are who you are. and together, it works. sort of. but it would probably be better if the pants were with a different pair of shoes and the shoes with a different pair of pants. so, it's ok the way it is. but it doesn't necessarily mean it's the best option.

i guess what i'm saying is that i don't believe there is only one person out there for you. yes, i believe God has a plan for your life, and that He knows your future more intimately than you can imagine. and so, I also believe that there is, ultimately, one person you will marry (if that's part of God's plan). at the same time, i believe there exists an oxymoronical truth that there is not just one person. that it could be anyone.

and now that i'm married, reflecting back, the fact that i believe that makes my marriage so much more wonderful. i don't have expectations for my husband to be perfect. and because of my belief that marriage is for life, and my commitment to work every day on bringing 100% of a healthy self to my marriage, i can dive in and love this imperfect man without ever wondering if he really was "the one." because i know he is. because we chose to do this marriage thing. and that's the end of it.

Guaifenesin Day Two

2009-01-12T16:11:00.006-06:00

Well, friends, treatment has begun. I took my third pill this morning. Two a day - 300mg each. For one week.

The trick is... if I feel worse at the end of the week, that's a good sign. So we'll see how I feel on saturday. If not significantly worse than usual, I'll double the dose. Four a day.

Here's the scoop (as I understand it, and in normal-people terms):
People with fibromyalgia have weird tubules in their kidneys. Thus, the smooth phosphate molucules do not fit through, and build up in our bodies. Coincidentally, phosphate and calcium work together to create ATP - which is the "energy factor" in your cells. It makes them go! Sooo, because there is an abundance of phosphate, there are no empty parking spaces for calcium to park and rest. In other words, the calcium in my body always has an available phosphate to bond with and make my cells produce energy. So, my cells are always working. This exhausts them, and creates an abundance of wide-spread symptoms that involve much more than fatigue and muscle pain. I've had stomach problems my whole life. Itchy spots pop up on my skin. Some people have numbness and tingling. Others have problems with their hair. The variety of problems just goes on and on.
Dr. St. Amand in his book What Your Doctor May Not Tell You About Fibromyalgia explains that fibromyalgia is not a syndrome as many have called it. Syndromes have no known cause or cure. Through his studies, he has come to call it a disease, and one that can lead (and often does lead) to rheumatoid arthritis.
However, Dr. St. Amand has also discovered that the use of an over-the-counter medication, guaifenesin, can reverse the progression of the disease. This medication allows your body to process phosphate as it should; and further, it flushes all the excess phosphate out of fibromyalgics. This is the reversal process, and it can be very painful. My understanding is that as your body is flushed of excess phosphate, your symptoms all rise back to the surface, and are exagerrated as a result.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. Or scared. Or hesitant. I don't know what I will feel like on a given day. Or how bad I'll feel. Or how long I'll feel bad. Apparently the reversal cycles get shorter and less difficult, eventually leading to an essentially fibromyalgia free lifestyle. And I think that's the part I'm scared about. I've lived this way for as long as I can remember. And as much as it would be wonderful to wake up without any pain, I just don't know if I really want to. I know that probably doesn't make any sense. The best thing I can compare it to is postpartum depression - when a woman gets really depressed after she gives birth. Or like if you were blind for your whole life and suddenly gained your sight. Would you really want to see?

Anyway, that's where I'm at. I'll try to keep this updated regarding the treatment. I might start another blog devoted to that - haven't decided yet. If so, I'll post the link. Thanks for all your support!

The Obvious Question

2009-01-05T16:55:00.004-06:00

I got my hairs cut. Last Friday. Kind of as a New Year surprise/change/fun thing. Mostly as a Molly thing. I needed to get my hair cut. Split ends galore. I had it short a while back and loved it. The hubs and I discussed, and decided it was a good plan. I like it. My little textured bob.

Anyway, all of this brings me to another social study of mine. I'd like to propose the theory that whenever physical change happens to a person frequently seen, the other persons around them are more apt to either pose the obvious question or make the obvious statement than to make a comment on the obvious. For example, you can probably guess the question/statement I have heard all day at work today (and pretty much since Friday). "You cut your hair!" "Did you cut your hair?" I wanted to say "Nope." Just to see. Maybe I should try that on the next one.

I mean, I do it too. "You cut your hair!" "Have you lost weight?" "You're married now!" "You bought new jeans!" "Are you pregnant?" (The most risky of questions, it seems.)

This is my favorite:
Suzy was looking for Johnny and couldn't find him anywhere. As she turned the corner to go down another hallway, she saw him. Suzy exclaimed, "There you are!"

Really? There. you. are. Thank you Captain Obvious. I wasn't sure where I was. Next time I'm gonna respond, "Thanks! I couldn't find me anywhere!"

fibromyalgia treatment part deux

2009-01-01T10:16:00.003-06:00

So remember how I wrote a post on fibromyalgia a really long time ago? And how I mentioned that I'm starting a treatment soon. Well that soon is like really soon now. As in, I'm probably ordering the medication today, and when it comes in, I'll start taking it. How's that for soon?

For details, czech it out at www.fibromyalgiatreatment.com.

It seemed appropriate to write this post today because of how my body feels this morning. And, because I'm going for honesty and reality, I figured I should write about it.

Basically, I woke up and immediately knew I had been hugging myself all night. Like, you know when you wrap your arms around yourself when you're cold? Ok, and then sometimes when you sleep, you curl your arms up in the same position. I guess it's comfortable. Or it keeps you warm. Or some other reason that doesn't make a lot of sense. Well, imagine doing that all night, only actually squeezing like when you do it because you're cold. While you're sleeping. All night. It just makes for a very uncomfortable morning. My arms are sore and weak and my shoulders feel out of joint. Also, I'm wide awake and yet very tired.

I'm looking forward to only hugging myself when I'm actually cold. And not asleep. And I'm looking forward to not being tired after I sleep. That will be nice.

I am officially a woman.

2008-12-30T08:46:00.002-06:00

It's official. I bought pants from the womens' department at Kohls last night. Cute ones. From the womens' department. Because I'm a woman. Not a junior. A woman. After many, and yet infrequent, shopping trips, I have finally discovered that the fact that I can't wear pants from the junior section anymore is not a sign of the fact that I no longer weigh 112 pounds. Hello! It means I have hips! I am woman. Hear me roar. What has taken me ever so long to change my mindset, I have no idea. I am freaking 23. I've been an adult for at least 3 years as far as how I felt internally. Why didn't I translate this to how I think about my body? I don't know. But I am proud to say that I will no longer be looking in the juniors section for pants. Probably ever.

The End. Amen.

To Be or Not To Be Cold.

2008-12-15T09:04:00.003-06:00

I decided that Texas winter is rude. It has no consideration for the fact that I am wearing a coat. A big, heavy, cute, winter coat. A warm, wool coat. A coat that is supposed to make me not cold. And this coat is no pansy. But Texas winter is all like, "Hey Coat. You're lame and I'm really cold and I don't even care that you exist." So I'm going to start wearing LOTS of layers. And to punch Texas winter in the face.

Are you with me!?

Watch Maker: my thoughts this morning

2008-11-10T10:09:00.003-06:00

Is it possible that God really could have walked away, stepped outside for a moment, taken a step back to observe?

Is it wrong for me to think that?

Am I forcing myself to believe that He's providing because we have Ramen to eat for lunch, or does that mean He's really coming through?

If so, why do I feel like He's so far away?

an apple a day...

2008-11-07T15:21:00.003-06:00

I can finally see the top of my desk at work, so I am rewarding myself with a healthy dose of blog-posting.

I've been working on how to go about posting on the topic of fibromyalgia. Because really, most people forget that I even have it, and I think I prefer it that way. So, I don't want to sound all "woe is me" because that's not the point. The point is awareness and truth. I think.

So let's start with this. Might as well jump right in so you can get over the "Really?" response that most people have and just engage what I'm saying.

I live with pain every day. Yes, really. In a good spell, most of the day, every day. In a bad spell, all day, every day. I'm also tired, can't concentrate, forget what I'm saying, reading, watching, doing; I have had stomach issues since I was five, and I get itchy spots on my skin. Most of the time, I am probably completely unaware of these things unless they exceed my level of tolerance which has grown increasingly higher over the years.

What does it feel like? That's hard to explain because I don't know what normal feels like, so I really have nothing to compare it to. Based on my experience of other people's lives (which doesn't actually exist), I would compare it to not sleeping for a day or two (or more) in a row and choosing to run a mile at your fastest pace from the state of a person completely out of shape. Maybe? I don't really know. If I had to guess, I think that is maybe what I would say. How's that for certainty!

How could I not know this? Probably because I didn't tell you, or you forgot, which is both completely normal and acceptable in my book. No, but really, me blogging on this is a big step. I just don't tell people, or even remind them because I have never felt that it was necessary in the majority of cases. Did I tell my husband before we started dating? Yeah. Have I told my employer? Yeah. My best friends? Yeah. The rest of you? Nope, or only in passing, to make another point. Also, it is invisible for the majority of my life. Does that make me insane? No, it's real. Trust me. You just can't see it unless you're looking for it. If you happen to catch a glimpse, feel free to ask me how I'm doing. :)

I don't really know what else to say right now, other than that there is hope. I'm starting a new treatment soon which should completely reverse the disease. I don't even know what that would look like. Journey with me.

Sing a little song of sunny skies. Sing a little song, sing a little song!

2008-10-22T12:35:00.007-05:00

Rae tagged me. And here I am. It.

The radio in my old car was digital, and so it showed the number of the volume as you turned it up or down. I only turned it to even numbers. Or, multiples of five.

I don't like the word moist. Honestly, I'm surprised at the fact that I even typed it just now. It's gross. It sounds like what it means and it's gross. And don't harass me by saying it. I don't think that's funny.

I grew up in Pittsburgh, PA. We lived in a house on a half acre lot. Grass. Lots of it. An in-ground pool. Trampoline. Deck. Homemade ice cream. These are a few of my favorite things...

I love teenagers, but they intimidate me. I promise you - you might think you're the biggest dork of them all, but if you are between the ages of 12 and 19, I will think you are cooler than me. That doesn't make you right about everything. Just cool.

Nothing gets under my skin more than women who advertise their bodies. My heart rate increases significantly and all of my Irish soul forces my mouth to rattle off how unfortunate and ridiculous this is. IF YOU WANT PEOPLE TO SEE YOUR BODY THAT MUCH THEN JUST WALK AROUND NAKED! OR JUST GO ALL OUT AND WORK AT A STRIP CLUB. AND MOST OF ALL, DON'T ADVERTISE YOUR BODY TO MY HUSBAND, BECAUSE HE IS TAKEN AND NOT INTERESTED!

Once my nephew started saying full words, he called me "La-la," which has now transformed into "Ma-la." I swear his smile extends into his ears. Which is pretty much the greatest thing ever. See?
When I had foot surgery in May of 2006, my friend Amy brought me a stack of DVDs to watch. Among these DVDs was the movie Ella Enchanted. I cried while watching this movie.

Peeps:

Courtney is my friend.

I love my hubsband.

Janessa is getting married to Mike.

Wyndi is beautiful.

Matt cares about his friends more than most people I know.

Who's Geo anyway?

When I get to heaven...

2008-10-21T16:08:00.005-05:00

I'm going to ask God who invented those paper gowns they make you wear at the doctor, and why. Because I'm pretty sure they were invented solely for the purpose of entertaining physicians. Think about it. They walk into cold, small rooms with ugly wallpaper all day. Inside of that room is sitting an individual who asks them questions about the mole on their left arm, the tingly feeling in their toe, and why they can't seem to get all the wax out of their ears. They look at your ears, eyes, throat, and other unmentionables. All day. Every day. And, they get to look at you wear that paper gown. That paper gown that somehow still bears the marks of 1993. Just in more subdued colors. I mean really.

the emotions of a receptionist.

2008-10-17T12:09:00.003-05:00

yesterday, one of our sales guys asked me to order pizza for the fab shop for lunch today as a "thank you" for their hard work on his project. he said he would like it here at 11 and that he would ask the fab shop manager how many pizzas to order and get back to me. he let me know this morning that i should order 8 pizzas. so, i ordered 8 pizzas - 3 pepperoni, 3 meat lovers, and 2 supreme - for delivery at 11.

the pizzas showed up at 10:55, piping hot since the pizza place is just down the road. i told the sales guy that they were here, and he helped me carry them to the fab shop. he stopped to talk to the person in whose office we put the pizzas (since there was no table set up).

i went to the fab shop manager and said, "The pizzas are here," to which he replied, "Why are they here at 11? We don't clock out for lunch until 12." I told him the sales guy asked me to order them for 11 and pointed out where he was standing to ask him before walking away.

11:10 rolls around. I get a call from a fellow co-worker letting me know that she was leaving for lunch with another person and the fab shop mgr.

11:55 rolls around. i watch the sales guy sign out for lunch and walk out the door.

11:59. i walk to the fab shop to see the status of the pizzas. still sitting on the chair in the person's office, where we originally put them. after venting for a minute, that person and i take the pizzas to the break room as the buzzer is ringing for lunch. the fab shop employees file through a line to get their pizza and thank me as they walk by where i'm standing.

12:10. after getting my own slice of pizza and coming back to my desk, i can't help wonder why this is bothering me so much. maybe because there was an obvious gap of communication. and the fact that i am now standing in the middle of it. maybe because i was the one who took the hit for the pizzas getting here "early." maybe because i ended up being the only one here who took responsibility for the "thank you" that was supposed to be so graciously extended to the fab shop employees. maybe because i'm wondering what the fall-out of this will be. and how the leadership class i'm taking for work will play into it. and if anyone really gives a damn.

and at the end of the day, all i have is a big neon sign above my head.

i'm sorry.

2008-10-16T10:12:00.004-05:00

i'm pretty sure i failed at wife today. i mean, in some people's standards i just missed the mark a bit; but i definitely missed my own standard, and to me that is failure. no getting around it. i didn't do it on purpose. and i didn't even really "do" anything particularly wrong, i guess.

but i missed it. i missed what he was saying. i wasn't really listening. i wasn't paying attention. and the consequences were more than just "molly, you don't understand." and i can't say that his pain was a direct result of what i did or didn't do, because that's not true. but, if i had really been listening... if i had really been paying attention... i'm pretty sure the significance of his pain wouldn't have been so startling.

and at the end of it all, it's not even about me anyway. but isn't that the point?

i respect you so much, baby. i so admire you for your vulnerability. i only wish i could have as much raw, consistent personality as you. you are a warrior.

good sermon, pastor.

2008-10-09T20:28:00.001-05:00

there has got to be a better way to do this.

2008-10-09T20:13:00.003-05:00

Are you ever deep into doing something when you realize that there was a much better way to do it, and would probably end up with a better result?

"EZ Fruity Popcorn Snack"

Pop microwave popcorn.

Pour into bowl.

Drizzle butter over popcorn and toss to coat.

Shake 1 pkg. dry Strawberry gelatin mix over popcorn.

Mix lightly.

Add peanuts.

Add cereal.

Mix lightly.

First of all, what does "mix lightly" even mean? How do you mix, lightly? You either mix or you don't. Mix or toss. Blend, even. But mix is really just a mix. Not even a stir. It's a mix. Lightly?

Secondly, even if you "toss" the popcorn after you've drizzled butter, not every piece is going to be covered. Thus, resulting in four things:

Left over dry gelatin. Everywhere.
Some pieces of popcorn are lightly dusted, or not even touched by the gelatin.
Some pieces of popcorn are bright pink.
Unusual bits of strawberry gelatin-covered butter are floating throughout the mix. Yum.

Third, I realize half way through that the floor is no longer smooth. "I must have dropped some gelatin mix." Still tossing/mixing/lightly/stirring? I look at the bottom of my foot. Pink.

Next time (longer process, better result): Pop popcorn. Spread over parchment paper. Drizzle butter over all popcorn pieces. Sprinkle gelatin mix. Pour popcorn into bowel and toss to cover evenly. Add peanuts. Add cereal. Put lid on bowl. Shake. :o)

day in the life: update

2008-10-09T09:21:00.003-05:00

tuesday -
2:40pm - husband picked me up for my appt. tears started flowing the moment my tush hit the seat in his truck.
3:00pm - chiro appt. cried. twice. lots of pain. little to no movement of anything.
3:45pm - back home. praising God for a husband who will deal with my tears and help me do things like sit down. called the parents to give them an update. ice. ice. ice.
5:45pm - mac n' cheese. comfort food, anyone?
6:45pm - 3 episodes of seinfeld. ice. between. each. one.
9ishpm - bedtime. or at least pretending to sleep.

wednesday -
6:05am - wow. again? call out sick.
9:30am - get up. shower. ice.
12:20pm - husband comes home.
12:45pm - back at the chiro. tries twice to crack the left side of my neck. unsuccessful. cracks the right side. stretches my neck. tells me to alternate heat and ice and come back on friday.
1:30pm - 4:30pm - sandwich. tea. heat. ice. heat. ice. heat. ice. heat. ice.
6:00pm - 8ishpm - attempt youth group. pull out my piano skills last minute. limited. but they work.
8:45pm - in my bed. heat. sleep.

today -
i can actually look left and right without hestitating. still can't look at the ceiling. i brought "bed buddy" to work for my heat source. i'm pretty this thing is an antique - and also from canada. i don't care if i look dumb. i'm over looking dumb.

post on fibromyalgia and my soon-to-start treatment in the next week or so...

a day in the life of molly bower.

2008-10-05T21:20:00.004-05:00

6:05am - phone alarm sounds to the tune of "buddy," immediately fall back asleep
6:15am - phone alarm sounds to the tune of "calling trip," and 10,000 reasons why i should reset my alarm for 6:55am fly through my mind; swing my legs out of bed and sit up. fine.
6:17am - shower. wake up. how did i get from bed to here?
6:22am - putting on hair towel - zing! what in the world is that? try again. nope. ok. i guess i won't be moving my head today. no nodding, turning, lifting my left shoulder, or looking up.
6:30am-6:40am - attempt to blow dry my hair so that it looks acceptable given the no turning, nodding, looking up circumstances which make it oh-so-difficult to style.
7:05am - pray dear God that this pain will go away and that i can survive until the chiropractor can fix it, and dear God please let him fix it.
8:05am - send an email to my supervisor and other significant co-workers explaining that if i look uncomfortable it's because i am and that i will be leaving the office at an unknown time for my chiropractor appt.
9:12am - my phone decides it official hates cingular, won't even acknowledge that it's connected to a tower, and ceases to send text messages.
9:40am - email to husband: "my phone isn't working."
10:20am - call from chiro: appt at 3pm today
10:30am - ice on and off every 30 minutes.
11:30am - ask a coworker to bring me lunch since i have to use my lunch hour to fix "mrs. crick in 'er neck" as everyone has now decided to call me.
11:50am - decide this is my life. attempt to cope with the pain, stay calm amidst the muscle spasms and pretend that i am emotionally detached from the difficulty this brings to my work day. wonder what the doctor will say and how swollen and hot my neck will be by 3pm.

remind me to talk about fibromyalgia in an upcoming post.

on the way to debt free!

2008-10-02T17:16:00.003-05:00

We received our first $0.00 statement from one of the many companies to which we owe moolah for various things - school loans, car loans, etc. Zero dollars! That means we have paid our balance in full and owe nothing! Yippee! Only about $45,000 to go!

Reality check. Honesty. Confession.

But we're still on our way. And for that I'm excited.

dress to impress - guests in the office today

2008-09-30T11:12:00.003-05:00

another observation i've been making about office psychology is the difference between the old school and the new school of thought. in today's case, particularly in regard to how we approach the arrival of guests in the office.

old school: move the plants, vacuum the floor, straighten the chairs, open the blinds, clean your desk, sweep the shop floor, take all the trash out, put on a smile, escort them inside, shake lots of hands, talk about the cowboys game, get serious in the meeting, shake lots of hands, talk about going out for steak and shrimp tonight and maybe having three too many gin and tonics and escort them out the door.

new school: keep working in preparation for guests arrival (don't want to forget everything we wanted to talk about), put on the killers sam's town, hit the "biffy" so you don't have to stop conversation mid-thought, make sure there are enough chairs for everyone, brew a pot of breakfast blend, wash the starbucks mugs you bought for such a time as this. open the door, respond to the customer's comment on how much they love the killers, move the conversation very organically to how you will improve their business, comment on how everyone has got to love breakfast blend, offer to take them out to this thai place you found and love, shake on it, and wave goodbye. back to work.

somehow i just think sweeping up the shop floor is like pretending that we get a lot done without ever making a mess. i've had two people come up to my desk in the past three days, only to comment, "wow, it looks like you're doing work." and i always reply, "i'm so glad i can confirm the veracity of your suspicions. i don't just sit here and look pretty while answering the phone and entertaining your witty sense of humor. i actually get paid because i do work. all day. monday through friday. spread the word."

i guess i live and operate in a different mindset from the place where "reception" started. i don't wear pearls every day. and i only wear high heels when i think my feet can make it through the day (and, secretly take them off at my desk when i know i won't have to get up for a while). i don't bow to the whims of every man who walks by my desk. to me, the work of a receptionist is more about getting as much done as possible and giving other employees a better sense that work is relational.

better get back to it. have to make sure the desk is clean before our guests get here. God forbid it would appear that i had to shift papers to get my work done.

your thoughts?

social experiment - the easy button

2008-09-22T09:37:00.006-05:00

I received an Easy button from the regional Staples manager for creating an account with them at work. For those of you who are unfamiliar, when pushed, the Easy button proclaims, "That was easy!" which is Staples' selling point. Anyway, upon opening the package, I placed the button on the counter at my desk - which happens to be the Front Desk, and sees a lot of traffic throughout the day.

My internal question was two-fold:

Will the majority of the population of those who come to my desk on some level at least feel the need to push the button?
Who will push the button?

This is what I discovered:

Everyone makes a choice regarding the pushing of the button. It can not simply be looked over or ignored. The choices made are variations of two: (1) Yes, I will push the button, or (2) No, I will choose not to push the button. Also, usually the choice to push the button has to do with one's psychology, and usually the choice not to push the button was social.

For example, our operations manager handed me a file and asked me if I could perform a certain task for him. Upon my answering, "Sure!" he pushed the button, laughed to himself (probably thinking, "How ironic!") and began to walk away. He paused, said, "I couldn't put one of these at my desk because nothing is easy there!" and continued on his way.

Further, one of our sales men walked up to my desk as I was sharing my observations up to this point with another admin, "Everyone has to push the button!" I looked up at him, and exclaimed, "Except you!" He nodded in such a way as to say, "See, I'm the only one who hasn't given in to the urge to push the button."

I'm a button pusher. And I like the irony of it, the sarcasm. I pushed it at the end of the day Friday. "That was easy!" It felt good.

You?

tossing the biscuit.

2008-09-15T12:35:00.006-05:00

i'm pretty sure i'm back to the wasteland. i've been here before. and i really didn't like it much the first time. maybe it's that i never really left, but only got a glimpse of what was to come. or maybe i left briefly, only to return. either way, here i am.

exhausted.

foggy.

uncertain.

uncomfortable.

but mostly just tired.

it feels different though. maybe i'm not in the wasteland, but in the ocean. that's more what it feels like. waiting to see the lighthouse in the distance. for now, everything is black, and i'm just swimming.

in other news, my husband needs a job. so, if you know of something for a patient, friendly, creative, people-oriented musician, who is a mac user, and also wants to have a life and a marriage, let me know. seriously.

TOTh

2008-09-04T09:36:00.004-05:00

Thoughts of Thursday.

i want to be a catalyst for change. but without anyone really noticing. i want God to use me to change someone else's life, or the life of a group, even an organization on the whole. i want my thoughts to be bigger than life, and for others to hear them and walk away differently. not as in skipping instead of strutting, but in their heart different. is that even english?

at the same time, all i'm hearing is that i need to settle in. strap on my boots and wade in the water, so to speak. to just be, instead of do. but what does that even mean? for the last 23 years of my life, and particularly the middle 15 years or so, life has been about doing - doing crafts, doing homework, doing youth group, doing ministry, doing coffee, doing everything. and no one prepares you for life after school, after doing. not to just blame everything on others, which is fun and easy. but i just feel ill-prepared and lost. swimming in the ocean - which is fun, but mostly hopeless and tiring.

and in all this my fear is that in all my being, i'll never do the things i dream of. i'll set my dreams aside, not because God is telling me to, but because i feel that i have no other choice.

i know life isn't all about me, and that it's typical of my age group to be so introspective and trying to figure out life, but would someone please tell me how to be any different!? or at least acknowledge that my quarter life crisis is real and that i'm ok. and maybe a few pointers on what it takes to get from point A to point B.

. . .

r.e.s.p.e.c.t.

2008-08-29T12:01:00.003-05:00

Why do we think it's perfectly ok to be disrespectful? To talk down to our peers in the workplace? To be a smart alec at the age of 55? To tear someone down regarding their job instead of constructively criticising their work in an effort to lift them up?

I'm currently unable to avoid eavesdropping on a conversation two of our engineers are having in the middle of the front office - mostly because the one man feels the need to speak loudly enough for everyone to hear. As if his loudness will make his "rightness" more right. And, as far as I can tell, he probably doesn't even realize that he is slowly but surely emasculating the gentleman he's talking to - blow by blow. Essentially speaking to him as if his work doesn't mean a thing - his effort, his knowledge. And as far as I know, work is pretty important to men. Or at least, if I said to the men I know, "Well, you were taught wrong!" they probably wouldn't feel that great. Especially if I said it loud enough for more than two desks away to hear.

I guess the basic thing going on here is how to respect someone and have conflict with them. It requires discipline, thought, self-control, love. I think it also requires awareness. Awareness that words matter - what you say and how you say it. Awareness that your negative interaction with someone will last longer in their memory than a positive one. And I think it requires the mindset of building bridges instead of walls. Walking with someone instead of looking at them. Crawling into the ditch where they are and helping them climb out instead of looking at them and saying, "How did you get there?"

Not really sure where to go with this. Or how this plays out really. I mean, I know how it plays out in my marriage - we've worked hard to at least try to do this one thing right every time. But in other areas of life? At work?

Other thoughts:

Holiday Weekend!
Antithesis of Lame = my parents coming to visit for the weekend!
Exactly what are bad dreams anyway?
It's really nice to have someone ask how I'm doing. Genuinely. And actually care enough to follow up later.

the song that my soul sings...

2008-08-22T09:25:00.002-05:00

Add To The Beauty
by Sara Groves and Matt Bronlewee

We come with beautiful secrets
We come with purposes written on our hearts, written on our souls
We come to every new morning
With possibilities only we can hold, that only we can hold

Redemption comes in strange place, small spaces
Calling out the best of who we are

And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story
I want to shine with the light
That's burning up inside

It comes in small inspirations
It brings redemption to life and work
To our lives and our work
It comes in loving community
It comes in helping a soul find it's worth

Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces
Calling out the best of who we are

And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story
I want to shine with the light
That's burning up inside

This is grace, an invitation to be beautiful
This is grace, an invitation

Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces
Calling out our best

And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story
I want to shine with the light
That's burning up inside

Rant for the Day.

2008-08-15T16:25:00.004-05:00

I'm not even sure how to begin this post other than to say marriage sucks. Ha. You're caught now.

I love being married. I just hate trying to be married today - in this society, culture, circumstances, whatever you want to call it. After being married for three months (on Sunday), I have so much more understanding and even some sense of sympathy for the high divorce rate here.

Now, before I go on, let me make some foundational statements. I love and respect my husband, can't wait to see what God does with our future, and have no intentions of ever even considering leaving him. I've made a commitment that I intend to keep, every day, for the rest of my life. Always, forever, and no matter what. I could go on and on, but we'll leave it at that for now.

It amazes me that in the past three months, I can't even begin to tell you how many negative comments I've heard about marriage, or negative feelings others have pushed on us. For example, today at work, someone asked me if I just take my husbands check when they are handed out, or if I let them give it to him. I responded by saying, "He likes to see it first, then he gives it to me." This person responded, "Oh... Oh...." After asking, "What?" several times and trying to decipher the look on this person's face, they said, "It's just... the second part... he gives it to you." I said, "Yes. We have one bank account."

It ended there. But, I wanted to get on the speaker system and announce to the entire company, "To me, marriage means being unified. You know, the whole idea of becoming one. One life. One purpose. One house. One commitment. One bank account. You should try it."

Now I realize a bank account is one small, but significant part of married life, and honestly for some couples, one bank account just doesn't work with their financial situation. But, is this such a foreign idea?

And why are so many people startled to hear that I love being married. That everything is going great. That no, we haven't wanted to rip each others throats out yet, and don't really plan on it. We've had our share of disagreements/arguments/whatever. And I'm sure we'll really screw up someday and be hurt or hurt each other. I know my life isn't actually a fairytale, but is it so bad to believe that marriage could actually be as wonderful as God intended it to be?!

I don't wonder at all why the divorce rate is so high when everyone expects you to say that your marriage is struggling. That you don't actually like spending time with your spouse, and that you hardly even feel like you know them. That you work too much or that you don't have time to actually work on your marriage.

All of that is to say, I feel sorry for people who ask me, "So how's married life?" and I can see in their faces that they're expecting a negative response. I feel bad for the men who work with my husband who don't understand how he could ever want to spend time with his wife or work on his marriage. And I rejoice in the comments we made to each other in the car yesterday, "I like doing life with you."

Take that. What now?

french minion soup.

2008-08-07T10:44:00.002-05:00

Part One -

2 Timothy 1:3 I thank God whom I serve, as did my ancestors, with a clear conscience, as I remember you constantly in my prayers night and day. 4 As I remember your tears, I long to see you, that I may be filled with joy. 5 I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, dwells in you as well. 6 For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands, 7 for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.

Without going into detail, I'm pretty sure evil minions are not the way to teach children, or anyone, that God gives us power.

Side note: I can't say or write the word minions without thinking of onions.

Part Two -

You know how people say that God gives us choices and sometimes you have to take the road less travelled and that our choices have a butterfly effect that changes the larger picture and not just our little world, etc...

Well, for the first time, I really felt that last night. I was given an opportunity and was compelled to stop something from happening, and I didn't do anything more than mutter about it to myself. Still today, I can't help but think, "I wish I had said something. I should have said something." Not that what happened as a result of my not saying anything was my fault. It wasn't. I like to recognize that I'm guilt free when I'm not actually guilty. At the same time, I wonder what lives God would have changed if I had done what He was urging me to do.

I'm reminded that the word confession in Greek literally means, "To say the same thing." And so, when we confess, we agree with God about the reality of our sin. Which is why God's forgiveness is so powerful - it's not an excuse, and it's not excusing what we have done. It is recognizing the reality of our sin, and saying we are clean. Wow.

Sabbath Week: Day Three

2008-07-30T15:21:00.003-05:00

Resting is officially wonderful. Why do we let our lives fill up with so many things that we end up drowning ourselves? It doesn't make any sense to me why we would let this happen, and yet somehow it inevitably happens.

Conclusions so far:

My husband and I are going to guard our alone time. Like, as in, we're buying guard dogs, putting up red flags, and setting an alarm system. If we say we're having alone time, don't even call. That sounds harsh, but seriously - unless you're having an emergency, we need our time and we need to be able to focus for the limited amount of time that we do have with each other. We love our friends; we love you enough to spend purposeful time together so that we can hang out with you more often.
We feel called to be at group on Monday nights, and will continue to participate and lead as God leads us.
Hubby feels strongly about me doing youth ministry and I feel strongly about him doing music ministry.

In My Utmost for His Highest yesterday, he comments on how trials are not God teaching us something, but us "unlearning" something. So contrary to how we always think and talk about trials. I think this is, in part, to our society's mindset of always gaining more. We can not possibly be succeeding if we are letting go of things, only if we are learning more and doing more and having more and knowing more. But, as is usual, in God's mindset, it is the opposite. By letting go, scraping away, unlearning, getting to the roots, we are closer to Him and know Him more. Faith like a child is simple faith - not small faith, not insignificant faith - but simple faith.

Your thoughts?

Sabbath Week - Day One

2008-07-28T09:00:00.002-05:00

I'm at work. Which I guess is the opposite of resting. But something I did not have to option to give up this week. I am already greatly anticipating dinner with my parents-in-law and an evening of catching up with my best friend on the phone, buying tickets to fly to Philly for Thanksgiving, and perhaps reading a bit. Really, tonight is the only night for which we have plans. And they aren't busy plans, but plans none the less. They were unavoidable. The rest of the week, we will be practicing the word, "No." I can't wait.

Yesterday was kind of a prequel to Sabbath Week. We ate lunch at home, and then I promptly put a load of laundry in the washer and laid down on our bed. I slept for much longer than expected, and went to the grocery store (necessity) and then went to Walmart with the hubby (also a necessity this time). We ate dinner, and fell asleep watching Sister Act. We love our fancy life.

My expectations for this week:

get lots of rest
exercise at least four days this week
spend some much needed time with God
reflect on my thoughts about youth ministry at New Hope
converse with my hubby on what our life should look like with his new job - how to make things work
say "No" to everything unless it is a necessity

Nothing.

2008-07-22T16:12:00.002-05:00

Next week, I am going to perform an experiment - "the Nothing Experiment" - to be more specific. I am going to opt out of all commitments I usually have during the week (unless absolutely impossible, and not including being a wife), and spend all my spare time contemplating what I'm actually doing with my life, and whether or not it lines up with what I think maybe God has in mind. I might even fast - as in, go without food - to give myself some more focus. We'll see how that works.

I feel that we are so easily caught up in the same things that we do every day, every week, every month; and we become controlled by our routine, instead of living purposefully. I don't want to become a control freak, but I also don't want to feel like I'm completely out of touch with my own life. Maybe you could call it a Sabbath of sorts. I don't think I even know what that means. Here's to finding out.

On what condition?

2008-07-07T09:54:00.002-05:00

We humans are so conditional. We live based on circumstances - we're excited when something is exciting, we're content when things are good, we're peaceful when things are calm, we're troubled when things are troubling, and we're irritated when someone is irritating us. And yet, to swing to the other side of the spectrum, life would be so empty if we did not emote what is going on in our hearts as a result of the circumstances in which we live.

How do we live out a real understanding of God - who is changeless and loves unconditionally and lives within the context of His own character and not the circumstances He is in - and embrace what it means to truly be human - made in His image with feelings and emotions and intellect...?

I painted my nails fire engine red. So bright right now.

2008-07-03T16:35:00.003-05:00

It's almost the end of the day before a day of vacation, and there are definitely less than 15 people in the front office. Actually, we're close to being 10 or less. And somehow I really feel validated about leaving early. I mean, I know it's pretty shocking, but I just don't feel like it's important for me to work anymore. In fact, I've had pretty poor work ethic all day. No lies here. There's something about being on the edge of vacation that just makes doing work seem even less enticing than it usually is. I mean, I generally feel really accomplished at the end of the day when I know I did a lot. But some days, I know as soon as I walk in the door that I probably am not going to get much done, and somehow it's perfectly ok.

That is all. See you Monday, office.

Random thoughts:
What do you even pack when you go to camp, anyway?
Why do I love sandwiches so much? I mean, really, I love them. My mouth is watering right now.
If I'm honest, I have to say that I really don't enjoy developing friendships with girls. This is mostly because I hate talking about shopping and I would much prefer a beer over a wine cooler. At the same time, there are a few girls in my life that I would die for. No questions. They mean the world to me.
Also, my husband rocks. We're stupid for each other and have no shame.

"Let's not say anything." "Yeah, I don't think we need to."

2008-06-30T16:13:00.003-05:00

I was asked by one of the leaders at our church to consider going on the youth camp in a couple weeks, due to a need for one more female leader, and someone with a lot of experience to come alongside the new youth pastor. (The new youth pastor, by the way, got in today, and is leading these kids to camp in two weeks - Yikes!) In our initial conversation I said, "Yeah! I'd love to go, but I don't have any vacation time left. But if you want to call my boss (who goes to our church) and talk to him about it, you are more than welcome to see if he can pull any strings." Since then I have had the ups and downs of the following things: I can't believe I'm diving into this again, Am I ready?, How do I leave my new husband for a whole week?, I have no clue what I'm doing, Am I the right person to go on this trip?, I have zero information to go on here. After two or three small conversations with my boss to define details, I found out from the initial person who called me that my boss did indeed find a way to get me time off.

Not my boss. Not from my supervisor. Not from anyone at work. From the person who initially called my boss to make the request. Granted, she had a right to know what his answer was. However, no one I work for/with has acknowledged that this is happening. No comments. No questions. Nothing.

Why is communication so difficult? As I told a good friend today, "I just want to stand on my desk and proclaim to the world - JUST COMMUNICATE WITH ME!!!"

At the very same time, I get confused about why I receive forwards of prayer requests from people I barely know asking me to pray for so-and-so's mom who is in the hospital. First of all, I believe prayer is effective and powerful. Second of all, I strongly believe people are meant to live in community. Does this mean I can't pray for a stranger? No. At the same time, there is something strange and disconnected about me praying for so-and-so's mom in the hospital, and completely familiar and very connected about me praying for my good friend that she would find time and have the discipline to connect with God and for her husband that he would lead her in this way.

Ultimately, I just want communication. Real communication. Real life. Between real people. Who aren't afraid of the real things. Not just communication for the sake of spreading the word. Not just communication for the sake of being part of a prayer chain that has no real meaning. Not communication with hesitation and expectation all at the same time. Just talk to me. Use words. That's what they're for.

Finally, I end with a small vent on these words, "God bless their little hearts. Really, God bless 'em." Bah! Someone please say something meaningful and really mean it! Bible Belt get out of your freaking comfort zone and realize that there are people in the world who actually believe that there are many gods and that they might have a chance at achieving something by bowing down to them over and over again. That there are women and children who are beat by men who believe that Allah has ordained a family system that permits this kind of behavior. That "religious" is not synonymous with "Christian" and that sometimes "Christian" isn't what you think it is.

fact or fiction: homesickness makes you short

2008-06-26T12:01:00.003-05:00

i heard somewhere that people who are easily homesick have stunted growth, and are thus, short. i feel like this is probably false, but at the same time, um - true! i mean, my 5'3" self gets homesick before i even leave my home. i get homesick when i think about potentially being away from home. the gross feeling in the pit of your stomach, that you'd think would only be reserved for when you are seeing someone die - nope, when i see in my mind's eye (not even in my real eye) that i might be away from home for an extended period of time, i feel that gross feeling. my stomach lifts about two inches, and my rib cage feels jiggly. my arms feel unusually light, and my legs are spaghetti. my face gets hot. i pretend to be cool, but reality is, even leaving for the day to go to work sucks.

and for the longest time i've struggled with this - trying to grow out of it, thinking my way against it, not giving in to it, blaming generations of homesick women in my family. and i've finally almost come to the point of acceptance. this is not a weakness, but just a thread in the fabric that is molly. it doesn't matter where i am, where i go, where i want to go, where i've come from. it just is the way it is. i will probably always feel this way, always get nervous, always feel like i'm going to vomit.

but only when i'm going away for a while.

does that make me a home-body?

first thoughts

2008-06-09T09:24:00.006-05:00

Why is it always so difficult to write the first entry of a blog?

This feeling reminds me that as much as I don't want to be, I find myself dwelling in the land of insecurity. (What will people think?) I want to write something worthwhile. (Do I have anything profound to say? Why do I have to say something profound?) I want to depict my life for what it really is. (Who am I, anyway?)

What makes the difference between someone who is "real" and someone who isn't? Sometimes I sit at work and wonder if the people I interact with every day are actually representing themselves as they truly are. (Why is that important to me?) What do they do in their free time?

My life has certainly been turned upside-down over the last two years or so. Things I knew were true ended up being either false or completely different than I knew them to be. Somehow as you get older the world just gets bigger and you find that you know even less. Or is it that the more you know, the more you realize you don't know very much at all?

And you know those moments when, in the middle of all the puppetry of going about the daily routine, you find yourself breathing more deeply and, in your mind's eye, seeing that there is something about this life that is more than what we always knew to be real? It's as if you're seeing something you can't quite label because it's not physically seen. Honestly, those moments either make me smile because I feel like I just discovered a secret, or I wonder if all this believing is actually some big hoax.

Ultimately, I know the hoax thing is wrong. (Or is it?) And I dust off the ole Book and refresh my tired memory. My heart always responds, "Like, duh." (Yup, my heart is still a teenager, even though my mind is about 65.) And off I go (with my toothbrush and comb) back to waking and showering and working and eating and "living in community" (what does that really mean, anyway?) and pretending to be a rock star.

So, there it is. Or there it begins.

"come along and share you narrative with me..."

Random thoughts:

rear windshield (?) - really difficult to say, is the word "rear" actually ok?
favorite work moment of the week - getting a new mouse, wireless at that!
what am I avoiding right now? - the free sugar cookies I got with the office supply order this week
weekend plans - coffee with my new sister (in-law!), sleeping (hopefully)
reading - What Your Doctor May Not Tell You About Fibromyalgia by R. Paul St. Amand